


What You Are

by HK44



Category: The Kane Chronicles - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, carter is a good big brother, sadie is having some emotions, trans!carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 21:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13726185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: Walt smiled at her. “Not that’s it’s, like, an issue. I just- you’re mixed, you know.”She nodded again, suddenly tired of this conversation. “I know,” she repeated. She squeezed his hand. “I’m totally aware that I, the biological child of a white woman and a black man, am mixed race.”





	What You Are

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read the books in a long while but this has been spinning around my head so I caved and finally wrote it. Also I'm shit w/ titles.

“Hey, Sadie.” Carter glanced her over. “You okay?”

She looked up from where she was sprawled out on the ground, dust and dirt pressed to her cheek.

Gods, she needed to sweep at some point.

“I’m just, ya know, contemplating my existence,” she said airily, gesturing vaguely behind herself at him.

“Uh, like… in a bad way?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her cheek back to the floor and squinted under her bed. Oh, that’s where her hairbrush went. She reached out for it but her fingertips didn’t even brush it and she gave up, leaving her arm half underneath the bed.

Carter grunted as he splayed out beside her. “What’s up? Something happen on your date?”

She shook her head. “No. I just…” She rolled onto her side. “It’s nothing, Carter.”

“Sadie, come on, just tell me what’s wrong.”

She curled into herself. “Nothing’s wrong!”

He sat up and hovered over her. The concern in his face was  _annoying_. She glared at him.

“If nothing’s wrong, then how come no one’s seen you since you came back from breakfast?” He flattened himself on top of her and frowned. “Did- Did Walt do something?”

She recoiled back so quickly he faceplanted to the ground, legs still sprawled out on top of her. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “Walt didn’t do anything, Carter. I’m  _fine_. Just go away.”

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other any more,” Carter huffed. He pulled himself up to a stand and dusted off his pants. “But alright then. Have a nice night.”

He walked out of the room, closing the door a little too loud and she wilted at the noise, burying her face into her arms.

* * *

 

It was a nice morning. A really good one. She woke up, felt rested  _for once_. Her back didn’t hurt.

She felt good.

And when Walt popped by her room asking if she wanted to grab breakfast with him, she didn’t hesitate.

“You know, if Carter finds out we got ice cream, he’ll probably kill us both right?”

Laughing, she ducked her face into his arm. “Nah, he loves me. I’ll just be lectured to death.” She screwed up her face. “Ugh, I think I’d rather die.”

Walt slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close before taking a long and seductive lick of ice cream. She slapped his chest, snorting, and swirled her spoon in her own cup.

She choked on the thought, remembering a minute and a half ago when she did this. “Did- did you see  _her face_  when you told her you were my boyfriend?”

Walt laughed, doubling over as he squeezed her tight to steady himself. She laughed into his chest, the incident playing back her head, funny and stupid. It was like all the times people looked at her and looked at Carter and were shocked but  _better_.

Their cashier was a slender and older black woman with dark eyes like Carter’s and soft curly hair and in the moment, Sadie had been a little jealous at how pretty she was. And when Walt had slid over and paid for their ice creams and she’d smiled wide and said, “What a nice friend” that jealous vanished into burning annoyance.

So sue her, she got a little miffed and swung her arm around Walt’s waist, grinned wide and said, “He is the  _best_  boyfriend.” And gave him a quick kiss to the cheek to send her point home.

And when Walt laughed, the cashier looked a little relieved. Then he kissed Sadie back, nodded pleasantly and took his reciept.

The woman had looked  _scandalized_. It was better than when people disregarded her and Carter because at least she didn’t have looks of “there’s no way they’re telling the truth” on her face.

“She looked so devastated,” Walt agreed.

“Probably annoyed you’re with this beautiful slab of vanilla,” Sadie teased, dragging her teeth over her spoon. “Dad used to say people did that with him and mom a lot though.”

Walt snorted. “Yeah, but you’re not your mom.”

“And you’re not my dad. You’re hotter. And less book-ish.” She grinned at him, then deflated when he stared at her. “What?”

“I just- I meant, you’re not your mom because you’re not…  _white_.”

Sadie blinked. Then licked her lips and nodded. “I know.”

Walt smiled at her. “Not that’s it’s, like, an issue. I just- you’re mixed, you know.” 

She nodded again, suddenly tired of this conversation. “I know,” she repeated. She squeezed his hand. “I’m totally aware that I, the biological child of a white woman and black man, am mixed race.”

Walt snorted but kissed the top of her head and changed the subject to Felix taking over the bathrooms with his penguins. She groaned, remembering the fat baby that had been swimming around in the tub when she’d gone into pee.

Her head dropped back and she caught sight of herself in the glass window.

She pulled her head back up and pressed herself deeper into Walt’s side, trying to focus on the topic at hand.

* * *

 

It was easier to say she was white. Especially when she only saw her brother and her dad twice a year. Easier when there were no pictures of either of them around her house.

Easier when the whole world saw her that way and just told her that’s what she was.

There weren’t any slots of white and black anyway. It wasn’t like she  _knew_  she was supposed to check other on the box. And it didn’t  _hurt_  to say she was white. It felt wrong, sure, but that didn’t mean it  _was_ wrong.

She looked into the mirror and saw a white girl.

Everyone looked at her and saw a white girl.

What was she supposed to say?

And it wasn’t like Carter went around correcting people. Someone said he was black, then he was black. He didn’t say, “Oh, sorry, I’m actually mixed.” No one who knew he was mixed ever corrected him either.

He was a black boy.

She was a white girl.

Like their parents. Black and white.

She rubbed her face and the mini mirror on her nightstand down.

Did it really matter anyway? It wasn’t like she got hurt from being mixed. It wasn’t like people hated her for being mixed. Sure, there were those few kids that always seemed to distance themselves from her when she showed them a picture of Carter on a dig.

Sure, it was really  _really_  annoying to get the “Wait that’s your brother? That’s your father?” questions. Even more so when it was followed by “Are you sure?” or “Really?”, in that tone of voice that suggested she was  _lying_.

What did she have to gain from lying? And even if he wasn’t  _related_ to her, being adopted didn’t make them any less siblings, right? Even if they always felt like distant cousins until the last few years happened.

She rolled onto her stomach and screamed into her pillow.

She hadn’t had to think about this since she was eleven years old. Eleven years old and Emma shyly asked her what she puts down their exams when it asks for a race.

Just because she’d noticed there wasn’t anything for mixed.

Emma’s resulting “Oh” had caused Sadie to dip into a spiral, questioning her entire existence until she just gave up. She only saw Carter and her dad twice a year. She didn’t know them. Her grandparents were white. She wasn’t black.

She had no ties to black people aside from genealogy

She was set. It was fine.

She was white.

And she just ignored how that made her stomach twist and went on with her life.

* * *

 

Sadie tapped on the open door, waving loosely at Carter who was reading some dusty old book from the library. He sat up.

“Hey.” He closed his book around his thumb. “What’s up?”

She bit her lip then closed the door behind her, plopping down at the foot of his bed. “How-” She swallowed thickly. “How did you know you were a boy?”

He shrugged. “I just did, Sadie. I’m one of the lucky ones, I guess. Always knew. Even if I couldn’t put it into words.”

She nodded loosely. “So, when you had to fill out forms for anything, did you ever feel weird putting down that you were a girl?”

He frowned. “Yeah.” He set his book to the side and scooted closer to her until their shoulders bumped. “You feeling like you might be…”

She shook her head “Gods, no!” She rubbed her jaw. “I just- I was just wondering. If it felt wrong because you knew you weren’t. Or if it felt wrong because you thought you were lying. Or if it felt okay because, you know, that’s what you  _thought_  you were at the time or… I don’t know.”

Carter wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “What’s up, Sadie?”

“It wasn’t Walt’s fault,” she started, trying to wrap her head around a way to form the way she felt. Conflicted and upset. “It was kind of mine’s.”

“Of course.” She slapped Carter’s chest. He winced but laughed into her hair. “I’m sorry. What was your fault?”

She bit her lip and relayed the morning’s events. Spreading her hands over her knees, she squeezed them tight. “And know I just feel weird. Becuase I know I’m mixed but I just don’t see the point in saying that I am when no one believes anyway.” She tilted her head back. “I just- I dunno. I feel like- liek when you  _look_  like I do, saying, correcting people, it just- it feels like I’m trying to put myself somewhere I’m not supposed to be. So I don’t?”

“But- you do belong there,” Carter said. “Because you’re not white, Sadie.”

“And you’re not black, Carter, but you still say you are so why shouldn’t I tell people I’m white. Why can’t be that how I am?  _What_  I am?”

He shook his head. “It’s different, Sadie.”

She shrugged uselessly, her shoulders feeling like dead weights as they dropped. “How? How is it different? You look black so you say you are. I look white so,  _logically_ , I should say I am.”

“It’s different because when people find out that I’m your brother, that  _Dad_  is your dad, they treat you differently,” he said, so matter-of-factly she wondered if he ever thought about this in the dead of the night, like she did some day. “It’s different because the world treats me like a black man so I have to be one because whether or not I say I’m mixed, I’m always going to be treated the same way. You saying you’re white is completely up to you but-” He shrugged. “-be real. How many people treated you worse off after I came into the picture? After they found out we were related?

“People don’t believe that you’re mixed, that’s a whole special brand of racism right there, and it’s not the worst kind, and it likely never will be, but I know it still hurts you because I’ve seen the way you act when people don’t believe we’re related.” He squeezed her tight to him. “It still counts.”

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” she asked, dry.

“Yeah.” He shifted a bit, leaning into her, his weight a pleasant hold to the world around them. “Ever since I asked Dad why the Fausts got to keep you and not him. And he said that they argued that you didn’t deserve to be confused about who you were. That life would be harder for you if you were stuck between two black men. I mean, they said a lot of shit to get custody of you. That Dad couldn’t provide for two kids on an archaeologist’s salary, ignoring that he was a  _successful_ archaeologist. That you deserved a stable education, the whole blah-blah-bullshit, but that always stuck in my head.

“And as I got older, the more times I was around them, the more I realized they didn’t like me because they saw me as black. They know I’m their grandson but they don’t think I count, not really. That’s why with all the things they said, none of it ever applied to me.”

“I thought that was the House of Life trying to keep us apart.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it was. But- I think. When it came down to it, they just wanted you around. And I didn’t think that was fair and I told Dad that and he just said in the end he felt better off with you in their care because they had a point. No one would ever believe you were his kid and if you had a tantrum or got upset about something, there was no way that  _someone_  wouldn’t think the wrong thing about what he was to you. About what we both were to you.”

Sadie shuddered. “I just- It’s not- it’s not  _fair_.”

“I know. Sometimes-” He groaned and stretched, falling backwards. She laid down beside him. “Sometimes I used to get pissed. Especially when I was younger. Because Mom didn’t carry me around for nine month and give birth to a very overcooked baby-” Sadie choked, remembering that stupid overcooked, undercooked joke from when she was  _nine_. “-for you to tell me she can’t be my mom. And I think, I think people believe me faster than you. If I say she’s my mom, because they  _want_  me to have that. If I’m mixed, I’m somehow better for it. After I figured that out, I stopped.” He shrugged. “Black is beautiful.”

“And white is sad.”

“I mean white  _is_  sad. It’s all sterile and crap when you look at it.” He reached down and squeezed her hand. “But your white is pretty okay. You’re like white chocolate. Tasty but not as great as-” He gestured loosely to himself. “-the dark stuff.”

“Yeah but dark chocolate is bitter and white is sweet, so ha ha ha,” she snapped back, smirking.

He paused. “Guess the universe fucked up with that.”

She jerked, grabbing at whatever she could snatch up - a pillow - and smacking him with it. “Shut up!”

He laughed and caught her around the waist. She slapped at his back for good measure before sagging, tired, into his arms. Finally, he leaned back and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“Honestly, Sadie, if picking white on the box feels best to you, then do it. No one can really say that you’re wrong.”

“But it feels wrong.”

“Then don’t. Just because the world thinks you’re one thing, doesn’t mean you  _are_  that thing. The world thinks I’m a girl because I have breasts and a vagina, does that make a girl?” he asked.

Sadie rolled her eyes. “Makes you an interesting boy.”

“Exactly,” Carter said. “So what if the world think you’re the palest white girl to ever pale?”

“I never said anything about being pale.”

“Yeah, but you’re British.”

“So are you!”

“Not legally,” he muttered, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Just pick what’s feels best to you. I mean, you have three options. Black, white, mixed, and all of them are technically correct.”

“I guess so,” she said. She pressed her cheek to his hair, sighing. Then she grumbled, “I’m not pale.”

“You’re paler than everyone else.”

“Everyone else is black, Carter!”

“Exactly.”

She swatted his arm then twisted until her back was to his chest. She felt like a little kid again. With him trying to do her hair up into cornrows like his and failing spectacularly because her hair was stupidly too soft to lock properly. The braids wound up being too close to her scalp, too tight and small and hurt her head the entire time he worked on them.

And still she struggled through it because she wanted to be like her big brother.

And he still patted her gently and kissed her head every time she winced and complained that it hurt and then berated her on getting new hair so it’d be  _easier_. She told him to get a new face and they bickered and argued but kept at it until her whole head was done up.

And the braids still fell out by the next morning.

“You remember when you tried to give me cornrows?” she asked.

Carter paused then snorted. “Pfft,  _yes_. That was the worst day of my life. Your hair was so silky, everything kept falling out and I had to keep redoing them smaller and smaller just to make them stay and you kept whining about how much they hurt.”

She grinned lightly. “And you said I had stupid hair.”

“Yeah and then you said my face was stupid so I said-” He paused then laughed. “So I said, “At least my hair isn’t stupid. Get new hair.” And you told me to get a new face.“ He sighed against the back of her head. “I was so upset when Mom woke you up and all the braids had fallen out. Hey, remember when I told you my hair was longer than yours and I proved it and you got upset because it didn’t count if I had to pull the coils down?”

She snorted. “It didn’t!”

He squeezed her ankles. “It totally did.”

She rolled her eyes. “ _Maybe_.” She stretched and leaned against him, until her face was slotted up against his and she felt small and young, being protected by her logical older brother with his fancy words like  _belch_  and cool missing teeth. “What did you think I was? Back then. I used to think I was gray.”

“Because white and black makes gray?”

She snapped her fingers. “Precisely.”

He laughed. I dunno. I just used to think you were my sister.” He kissed her cheek lightly. “And you are. That’s all that matters”

**Author's Note:**

> As a white-passing mixed kid, most of this is based on personal experience so if you come at me guns blazing about how Sadie doesn’t look white-white, she’s just white-passing, I will smack you.
> 
> That being said! I do hope you guys enjoyed this fic~ I'm gonna try and reread the books over the break so I can write some more of my ideas out, hopefully a little more in character :D
> 
> [Tumblr](http://happyk44.tumblr.com/post/171021898562/hey-sadie-carter-glanced-her-over-you-okay) || [Insta](instagram.com/hk44_art)


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